


Tyger

by athena_crikey



Series: The Doctor and the Detective [3]
Category: Endeavour
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena_crikey/pseuds/athena_crikey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DeBryn mops up after the events of PREY. (Or: even more Morse-DeBryn interaction.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tyger

“You were right.”

DeBryn, pulling his traps out of the boot of his car, looked up. Morse was standing beside the driver side door, hands in his pockets and eyes shaded. His tone had been hollow, emotionless.

“I’m always right, Morse. That’s why you call me, not Kemp.” He straightened, shutting the boot with his elbow. Morse made no comment, eyes flickering to the thick evergreen hedge to their left and then down. He looked washed-out in the bright June sunshine, like a cotton sheet washed too long on too rough a cycle, and his shirt was damp with sweat. He turned his back to DeBryn and began picking his way across the lawn. “In this particular case, what was I right about?” DeBryn asked as they passed several large transport vehicles; the police had turned out in serious numbers.

Morse paused in the entrance through the massive hedge, a rounded portal trimmed into the living trees to form a deep gateway. “The big cat,” he said, standing in the shadows.

DeBryn paused to catch his breath at the words while Morse forged on ahead. He crossed the well-manicured lawn to the entrance to what looked like a massive maze grown from laurel trees. White handkerchiefs on red string hung from several branches. At the entrance, a piece of string dangled at shoulder height; it ran into the maze, wound now and again around the twigs. 

“Modern-day Theseus?” asked DeBryn, fingering the string. 

Morse glanced back, shrugging. “Couldn’t have the men wandering about in it all day.” 

They followed the string into the maze; ahead of him, Morse wrapped his arms around himself. DeBryn frowned. 

“It’s not still about, is it?” he asked, glancing apprehensively at the maze’s tight walls. 

“No,” said Morse, flatly. And then after a minute, just as stonily: “Mr Bright shot it.”

“Bright?” began DeBryn, taken aback. But at that moment they turned a corner and came, abruptly, to the body of a man who at first sight appeared to have been mauled to death. Blood had soaked his shirt and jacket and pooled thick and red in the grass. The rents in his chest and abdomen revealed glistening viscera. 

Morse turned away sharply, making no effort to disguise his discomfort. His jaw was working, his pupils very dilated. Fight or flight, DeBryn diagnosed, watching him curiously. The constable edged into the green wall to let DeBryn by and stayed there, as if sheltering in it.

The string ran on past him, past the savaged corpse and deeper into the maze. DeBryn glanced along it. “Where does that go?”

“The centre of the maze,” replied Morse, without looking.

“And what’s there? I had a report of a single corpse.” He put his box down beside it, and turned to Morse. Morse, whose head was turned so sharply the tendons in his neck were raised like cords.

“The second isn’t yours.”

Having turned, he was by consequence watching Morse when a twig snapped behind him, clothing rustling. And he saw Morse shy away, mouth pulling to show his teeth in an involuntary spasm of fear. 

DeBryn turned and saw four men walking towards them. They were carrying an old stretcher between them, wood and canvas. Draped on the faded cloth in its full glory was an Indian tiger, fully-grown and fearsome even in death. “What the hand dare seize the fire,” he intoned quietly as the great beast was carried past. He swivelled to watch it go, and saw Morse pressing himself deeper into the laurel. The leaves around him were trembling. So was he.

“Morse?”

“’M fine,” Morse muttered, very white now. DeBryn stepped forward and took his elbow as he stumbled, held onto it even though he tried to pull away; he didn’t try twice. 

“What happened here?” DeBryn demanded, voice low.

“Lady Julia went into the maze with her child. And then the tiger went in.” He ran a finger under the collar of his shirt, hand shaking. “I went in to find her while the others fetched the rifles and called the station. I did – find her.” His hand was curled high against his chest – tense, protective. “And then it found us. It was leaping when –” he looked helplessly at DeBryn. “When Mr Bright shot it.”

For a moment, the breeze played through the trees, leaves rustling in a soft whisper. Then DeBryn tugged him around, putting his arm over Morse’s shoulders. “Come on,” he ordered, pushing him away from the corpse of the first man to meet the tiger. “You oughtn’t to be here.”

“It’s alright,” muttered Morse, letting the doctor guide him.

“Don’t be foolish; I’ve come to expect better of you.” He led Morse out along the path indicated by the string. “I suppose after this, you’ll have a new phobia to add to your list. And no wonder.”

“I can’t imagine it coming up,” said Morse, almost managing a dry tone.

Outside on the gravel drive, he put Morse into his car. “Don’t argue. I’ll drive you back to the station afterwards. Or your flat, if you prefer.”

Morse looked up searchingly, as though trying to find a trace of pity or condescension. But he failed to, and let DeBryn shut the door on him. 

DeBryn walked back alone through the maze, and found himself crossing his arms against the non-existent cold. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s that,” announced DeBryn some ten minutes later, getting into the car. “First blush suggests it was indeed the tiger.”

“It was. I heard the shot.” Despite the warm June day Morse was curled up against the side of the car, jacket pulled tightly ‘round him, looking as though he had a chill. 

“Did they give you something? Water? Brandy?” asked DeBryn, starting the car.

“Yes,” said Morse, failing to specify.

“Well you look as though you could do with some more.”

“If I start drinking now, I doubt I’ll stop,” he said with surprisingly honesty, staring out the window.

“Water, then,” announced DeBryn, and let out the clutch.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

They stopped in at a pub on the way back into town, DeBryn ordering a brandy for himself and a glass of water for Morse. “I imagine this is the first time you’ve had water in a pub,” he said wryly, setting it down in front of Morse. Morse looked up and, to DeBryn’s surprise, actually laughed – a quiet rough-throated kind of laughter. DeBryn raised an eyebrow. “True, is it?”

“No, Doctor. I used to be a teetotaller.” He took the glass and sipped at it, still smiling. DeBryn sat down and took a sip from his own glass to hide the shock. 

“Why did you give it up?”

“I suppose it was Inspector Thursday; taught me the error of my ways,” he said consideringly, but a moment later the smile fell from his lips. 

“What?”

Morse shook his head. “No; it’s nothing.” His voice was low, suddenly full of grit, and he stared down into his drink. 

“I was sick,” he said eventually, still speaking into his glass. DeBryn held his silence, and Morse glanced up at him. “When the tiger – after. The only reason I didn’t make more of a mess of myself is that I’d been to the toilet just before coming out.”

“Morse, there’s not a person on this planet who wouldn’t lose control of themselves when faced with a creature like that. It’s no kind of disgrace. You went unarmed into a maze with a live tiger; no one would dispute your bravery. Unless they were making a case for insanity,” he allowed, with a thoughtful tilt to his head. 

Morse smiled weakly, and took another deep drink from his glass before looking up; a little of the colour was returning to his face. “I’m glad you’re back, Doctor.”

DeBryn, smiling despite himself, finished his brandy and stood. “Come along, then. I’ll drop you back.”

**Author's Note:**

> DeBryn quotes The Tyger, of course.


End file.
